


Dragon Wooing Habits: 10/10 Do Not Recommend

by mt_lyfe



Series: The Domestic Life of A Dragon [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Courtship, Don't copy to another site, Dragon Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Teapot Dragon, Werewolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24149911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mt_lyfe/pseuds/mt_lyfe
Summary: “You could ask him out.” Scott tried helpfully.“I can’t do that! I have to court him properly! Quick! What do werewolves like?!”“Meat.” Scott offered obligingly.“There’s an idea.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: The Domestic Life of A Dragon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804507
Comments: 63
Kudos: 985





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a new writer, about two months into writing and only started posting recently despite reading fanfiction for over 10 years. This is the most words I've jarbled together at once in my life. It's a personal milestone. Let me know if there was something that didn't make sense and I'll try to correct it. I hope you enjoy reading it as I did writing it despite some days I didn't know how and where I would go with this.
> 
> I'm not American, I'm just making things up.

Stiles had to deal with puberty. Twice. The first time was bad enough dealing with a growth spurt at 13, voice breaking and long limbs that he didn’t know what to do with, short of taking out someone’s eye in lacrosse with his flailing. Then the _second_ time came around when he was 16 and came into his dragon heritage on his mother’s side. _That_ day was one to remember. 

Luckily, he was at home and not at school when lightening from the storm that was raging over Beacon Hills all night struck the tree outside his front lawn. It was a little too close to home literally when the tree fell through his window right where he was playing Call of Duty with Scott. 

The panic he went through triggered his change. Skin rippling and bones cracking, next thing he knew there was a pile of clothes on the living room floor and a missing Stiles… which was promptly found to be buried in his own clothes wiggling and tearing to get out. Now it was teenage awkwardness _and_ dragon tendencies he had to deal with.

He started out as a tiny thing. Barely the size of a teapot. A dragon without a hoard was a teeny thing. He was quite ambitious though despite his size, even if it was that much harder to run off with the silverware. There were quite a few awkward encounters that Stiles denied having when first trying to start his hoard.

One of the ones being the sheriff’s favourite was when he came home from his 12hr shift to find his son scampering across the kitchen hefting a stolen teacup that was bigger than himself and struggling to balance it, back to his room. The sheriff chose to pretend he didn’t see his miniature lizard son scuttling off with his china set but did take a video for blackmail purposes. But honestly, it was the cutest thing.

***

Luckily, dragons grew fast, as his hoard increased so did his dragon form. The sheriff didn’t have enough silverware in the world to appease a growing dragon. When he grew tired of hoarding things from home, he started “hunting” out in the neighbourhood for other shiny objects.

Much to the exasperation of the sheriff the day Stiles walked into the house with a stop sign. Though he couldn’t very well arrest his own son, and then when asked to fill out the paperwork, put down ‘dragon tendencies’ as a motive.

He still made him return it. Much to the indignation of Stiles.

“It’s shiny! No one actually stops on that intersection anyways!”

“And you worry about that heart attack I’m going to get. Son you’re going to be the death of me.”

***

He was promptly sent off to Europe to get training from his mother. To learn how to hunt, and masquerade in human society. Dragons had many powers not known to humans and the sheriff was not going to keep putting up with Stiles’ shit excuses when he was caught carting off their neighbor's garden gnomes.

Invisibility and the ability to change their size and slip through cracks being one of the many abilities a dragon had. A successful burglary by a dragon would never to be solved even with modern day technology and forensics. Magic erased their tracks. To sum up his experiences in the mountains, it was like one of those anime adventures were the hero was sent off into the mountains to train and came back with new and improved superpowers. 

Another way to put in would be his mother whipped him into shape. (Shame on you for getting caught!) Stiles learned to be more inconspicuous after that.

As his powers developed Stiles started to steal not only because he needed a hoard and was attracted to all things shiny but the other reason being that dragons fed from strong emotions embedded into objects. The stronger the item was coveted or cherished the better the meal. 

That was why dragons of old hoarded mountains of pearls, gold and diamonds stolen from kings and queens. The lust from the monarchs hoarding precious metals could feed a dragon for years. Dragons got such a bad name for being jewelry thieves. They could just as well hoard worn out socks if there was enough greed imbued in it.

***

Three months into senior year Scott got bitten by a rogue werewolf wandering into town and in came one angry protective dragon defending his best friend, and out came a flambéed wolf traumatized and running out of town with his tail between his legs.

They managed to graduate high school with no further supernatural mishaps. Stiles and Scott made the decision to stick together. They both got accepted into NYU and had to move across the country. It was a big decision considering Stiles couldn’t take his hoard with him. He would have to start anew once he and Scott settled in. 

So on moving day they loaded up the rental van for the drive across the country. It was also the celebratory graduation summer road trip they’d been planning since the beginning of senior year. With one little hiccup. 

“So if you stay in dragon shift we can fit more stuff into the truck.” Scott bargained. 

Stiles was appalled his buddy would even suggest such a thing. “That’s animal cruelty! How could you suggest a thing?!”

In the end Scott’s logic and diplomacy won when he suggested that with the extra room if Stiles gave up his seat, he would be able to fit his marble collection _and_ his favourite silver pans in. Stiles conceded.

And just because he agreed didn’t mean he was going to stay silent the entire way. He chittered angrily at Scott’s insane driving habits, “how do you even drift a van Scott?!” And made his annoyance known the entire trip balancing precariously on top of their box of video games. Yes, he was the size of a teapot. Again. 

A dragon’s size was equivalent to their hoard and he had to leave most of it behind with the sheriff’s firm promise that it would be kept safe until his return. He hadn’t been this size since he first shifted. Disoriented and weak after parting with his hoard, Scott being the good bro that he was, snuck him into gas station convenience stores in a backpack during their pit stops so he could pick out the snacks.

“We’re getting low on coffee.” Stiles poked his head out of the zipper flap to inspect their options. “Get that one!”

“Mommy, there’s a talking dragon in the backpack!” A little girl said loudly pointing in their direction. 

“We’ve been caught! Retreat Scotty! Retreat!”

***

They arrived in one piece. No thanks to Scott. It was all Stiles throwing a magical bubble ward over the van at the last minute. Screeching something about his marble collection when Scott missed the exit on the interstate, and attempted an illegal U-turn, oversteering and spinning out of control, finally regaining control after ricocheting off the “Welcome to New York The Empire State” sign. Saved by well-placed signage. They made it.

Stiles was adamant about renting an apartment instead of living in the dorms. It was safer for his hoard he insisted. They had a couple days to settle in and get themselves acquainted with their landlady who they swore was some sort of supernatural creature because the individual units had soundproof walls and she left scent erasing incense all over the complex like throwing salt to ward off demons.

Wandering onto campus to explore and rope some helpful victim into helping them unpack, after all it was moving day for everyone else and they could return the favour. 

Stiles was a natural klutz and could not be trusted to move anything except his own treasures. He would trip over his own feet and drop whatever he was holding. Flying was a better option and much safer than walking according to Stiles.

Heading toward the dorms they came across a tall blond male with curly hair, doing the one trip or die trying method with his boxes and failing miserably. 

“Heeeey buddy, you look like you need some help with that!”

That’s how they caught their unsuspecting prey, Isaac.

They helped Isaac move his things into the dorms and he returned the favour. According to Isaac who was a werewolf as well, his packmates and roommate were assholes. Stiles couldn’t help eyeing what was in the boxes earlier. He was going make a visit at a later date to check out what was inside. He had a hoard to rebuild.

***

Isaac shortly introduced them to his other packmates that were living on campus as well. Boyd was his super quiet roommate that ditched helping him move in favour of spending time with his girlfriend Erica. She and Stiles hit it off right away both having a mischievous streak a mile wide.

Their Alpha were twins both carrying the spark, Derek and Laura. They were going to rent an apartment just off campus and would arrive a few days after term started because they had to wrap up pack business back home. It would be their makeshift pack house while they attended NYU.

***

Being only half dragon Stiles still had to rely somewhat on human food. And by food he meant coffee. Black. Like his thieving soul. It was a troubling thought, a caffeinated Stiles. It made him produce more fire. A hyperactive dragon with pyromaniac tendencies did not do the campus a favour. It did keep up his image of a starving artist, though he never actually painted anything. It was a wonder why he chose to major in Arts. When asked, Stiles’ response was “well I’m more of an art collector myself.”

***

Stiles wasn’t a prude; he didn’t only collect gold and diamonds. He was perfectly happy with shiny pots, forks, and basically anything glittery that he found around the campus. After running into Isaac on campus again because they shared an Arts major Stiles had been itching to scout out his dorm room for hidden treasures and by treasure, I mean…

“How did you get into my dorm room? And is that my pot?” 

Well damn, Isaac came back early. 

“You mean _my_ pot. It’s been repossessed. I gave you advance notice.”

“You didn’t give me any notice.”

“I did, you met a dragon and told me where you lived. That’s all the notice you need.”

“You can use it if you return it after…” Isaac tried.

“What self respecting dragon returns what they stole? I went through all the trouble to take it.”

The fight over the pot was a lost cause. A dragon fighting for his hoard was particularly vicious. Poor Isaac.

“It’s just a pot man, it’ll be okay.” Scott tried to bandage and console a clawed-up Isaac. Dragon inflicted wounds were slower to heal for werewolves. 

“I live with the guy; he hides his marble collection in the rice cooker.”

Modern dragons living in the middle of New York had no cavern to squirrel away their treasure. He had to adapt. Stiles wasn’t too picky where he left his hoard as long as it was in what he considered to be his lair. His magic would hide the rest if anyone untrustworthy came around sniffing.

***

There was panic outside the literature building. A crowd of students milling about were waiting outside to be let in for their midterms.

“My pen is missing! So is my back up!” A tiny freshman shouted. 

“Mine are too! What the hell I double checked I brought enough pens. There isn’t time to run back and get another one. The exam starts in 5 mins. What do I do?!”

Stiles gave an indiscreet burp.

“Man, Stiles can you stop it with the pens. People need to write exams. _I_ need to write exams!”

One of the most coveted items during exams were pens. It was a hot commodity. So naturally students would panic when they found their pen, and back up pen, and _back up back up_ pens going missing. 

Stiles wasn’t trying to ruin some poor student’s day by stealing their pens. He had exams too. And with exams came nervous jitters and pens were the easiest to get. It wasn’t his fault his dragon habits came out when he was stressed! The panic among the student body indicated otherwise. Stiles tried to hide and not look guilty.

“Scott buddy it’s not my fault I stress eat. You guys put so much hopes and dreams into those pens a guy gets hungry!”

“You could at least return the pens!”

Scott’s indignation went unanswered as Stiles continued his monologue.

“What kind of dragon am I, resorting to pens for a decent meal! I haven’t had time to break into a safety deposit box or scout out a museum, I have exams to study for! My ancestors lived off _gold and diamonds._ I’m a disgrace!” He finished off with a dramatic wail. 

“Stop being such a drama dragon Stiles.”

“Drama Dragon?! You think you’re being so clever Scotty boy?!” A tackling fight ensued.

***

Across from the literature building well out of range from regular human sight or hearing, under the shade of a willow tree Derek watched the two freshmen roughhouse. It wasn’t the first time those two caught his eye. One of them a lone alpha werewolf. It was wonder that he wasn’t insane already without a proper pack. But he knew that they’d met Isaac, it was only a matter of time before there was a new member in the pack.

The other one though… Stood out more to Derek. It was hard not to notice him. His movements were loud, his voice carried all over campus. Long limbs pale skin and too bright eyes. Sometimes he smelt like campfire smoke and smores. Other times like dew on grass and wet pine trees after a rainfall. Like northern mountains and fresh air. Of forests that were so hard to find in New York. There was another strange scent underneath all that that Derek didn’t know where to place. Reptilian but not quite. It intrigued him.

***

_Stiles._ Derek learnt the spastic hyperactive freshman’s name from Isaac. He never got an opportunity to run into Stiles. Somehow a fan club was formed upon him setting foot on campus. They were constantly lusting after him following him everywhere. He barely got any time alone walking between classes. Their scent was suffocating. He could run away but he didn’t want to draw attention to the fact he was faster than the average college student and then have Coach Finstock spot him and forcefully admit him into the track and field team. He didn’t want to be rude either. So, he did his best to keep a low profile.

It wasn’t until one random afternoon during Derek’s lunch break that he quite literally ran into Stiles. Turning a corner and crashing into one unsuspecting freshman, add some flailing limbs knocking them off balance and cue a cup of scalding hot coffee spilling over them as they crashed onto the pavement. Then he found himself smothered by a deceivingly muscled figure with long limbs that _wouldn’t_ stop thrashing and wha- he breathed in and got hit with that pine scent of forests and rain and _home._ He couldn’t get enough of it.

This was the most clique scenario that could happen to Stiles. Of all the people on campus to knock over, it was a tall dark and handsome god with the body of Adonis and of course there had to be spilled coffee involved. 

Tripping over his own limbs and crashing into a rock-solid chest Stiles couldn’t help but place his hands on that wonderful set of pecs, tongue flickering out he could almost _taste_ all that energy built up in this Greek god. He couldn’t help it, he reached for it and _pulled_. Oh my god tall dark and handsome tasted _heavenly._ He moaned. Dazed from feeding off such intense energy.

Blown amber eyes stared down at Derek in a drunken stupor. “You taste good.” Stiles sounded like he was stoned.

“Uh okay?”

Stiles blinked back to reality. He didn’t not just moan out loud. He did not! 

Trying to get his bearings back his tongue flickered out to taste the air in between them and realized. “Werewolf.” 

“Yea. What are you? I’ve never scented anything like you before.”

“Dragon. I’m the last one in the states since Mum went back to northern Europe. We don’t have packs. When we come of age, we find a mountain of our own to call home and to stash our hoards.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “I see that’s the dragon equivalent of turning 18 and getting kicked out.” He looked around and continued. “There are hardly any mountains in New York.”

“Yea well we can’t all be picky.” Stiles grumbled. “A dragon still needs an education, especially a half dragon. There are plenty of inventive places to hide things. A city dragon has gotta adapt.”

“Don’t you miss her?”

“You mean mum? Don’t worry we used to visit her every summer before I shifted. She would visit us, but she can’t leave her hoard for too long.”

A shadow fell over the two. “My, aren’t you two looking cuddly.” Erica grinned down at them.

The two startled as they looked up, then back at each other and realized the image they created. Stiles was on top of Derek sprawled on his lap, hands braced on his muscled chest, faces inches apart as they had their discussion. They quickly jumped apart.

***

It was Friday night, and Scott was trying to drag him out to the pub on campus and drown his mortification from literally running into tall dark and handsome that morning. Never mind that neither of them could get drunk what with Scott’s supernatural healing and Stiles’ immunity to all things poisonous. His magic would filter out any harm to his body. He could still take flaming shots though. He perked up at that thought and got ready to follow Scott to the campus’ hole in the wall.

The place was in full swing by the time they arrived. Heading straight to the bar to order those shots, the bartender lined them up and lit them on fire. Stiles downed them one by one in succession, flames and all. He was starting to feel better already. Keep those shots coming Scotty!

“Impressive.” A husky voice whispered directly into his ear.

Stiles spun around and came face to face with an awfully familiar set of pecs. He barely held himself back from making a second embarrassment of himself and spitting his drink into the guy’s shirt. It was tall dark and handsome. He gulped down this shot.

Derek was sitting at pub on a Friday night nursing his drink when he couldn’t believe his luck. His eyes wandered toward the bar and noticed the skinny flailing kid. _Stiles._

Hoping to get another chance with him since nosey Erica had interrupted them earlier. He abandoned his beer in favor of stalking toward the counter toward the smell of _pine, forests, rain and home._ Feeling strangely bold Derek leaned down and buried his nose into Stiles’ neck. “You do that well.” He murmured into his skin. Deeply inhaling that intoxicating scent.

Stiles squeaked and tried to jump back but he was pinned in between Derek and the counter. “Sorry about this afternoon.” He mumbled red faced.

“’S alright.” Derek purred, burying his nose deeper and rubbing along that column of smooth pale neck. There was the faint hint of fire and something smoky. He didn’t know what was wrong with him tonight. It was like he was getting drunk off the scent. He was never this forward.

Stiles whimpered. It was such a hardship to have his food so close, yet he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to have a taste. The memory from this afternoon was still strong. He never fed from something human before, always sticking to inanimate objects. It required prolonged touch and he was so, _so_ tempted. Even if Derek was practically plastered against him, Stiles felt like he still needed permission.

“Can I– “ 

“Yes.” Derek didn’t know what he was agreeing to, but it didn’t matter. Not when he was busy getting more of that scent.

Stiles placed his hands on that firm chest again enjoying the feel of hard muscles. Hand trailing down admiring the toned abs as well and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. He took a deep breath and drew out the energy weighing Derek down like an anchor. He let out a filthy moan. It would keep him fed for _weeks._

Derek suddenly felt so much lighter. All the emotions and scents left off from his fan club following him all week felt like it was drained as soon as Stiles touched him. He attacked his lips with fervor.

“Dude are you two alright. You’re practically dry humping in front of the bar and uh there’s a line up.” This time it was Scott interrupting them. 

Damn cock-blocking wolves! If they just used their noses properly, they would have learnt to clue in and leave them the hell alone!

It was like a repeat of that afternoon and Derek snapped back into his senses and pulled away. Looking down at the glazed eyed Stiles panting and mouth hanging open. Shame-faced at his sudden lack of self control, he didn’t know what came over him. “Sorry.” Derek mumbled and hightailed out of there leaving behind a dazed Stiles. 

“So… Derek.” Scott said unhelpfully.

“He’s the best thing since I could eat curly fries.” Stiles said drunkenly.

***

“So you jumped the poor kid, good for you!”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear Laura.” Derek grumbled from behind his closed bedroom door.

Ignoring him she continued. “Quit sulking. Ask him out.”

“He was drinking, I practically took advantage.” He repeated.

“Stop overthinking this. You’re going to grow mold if you keep sulking in the dark!”

All she got was a growl in response.

***

It was 3AM and Stiles was miserable. He made an ass of himself again in front of tall dark and handsome. Unable to sleep his next go to was to drown his sorrows with food. That meant hitting up the nearest bank in the area and raiding the safety deposit boxes for something tasty.

Returning at the ass crack of dawn with a full stomach and ready to sleep the day away he ran into tall dark and handsome coming out of the apartment next to theirs. He got another eyeful of that tight t-shirt over those wondrous abs. And those legs. He was going to commit it all to memory. In the shower.

Derek who couldn’t sleep the entire night finally gave up and decided to go out for a run at dawn. He blinked. It was Stiles. He lived in the same apartment building. What luck. He tried to apologize. 

“Uh… about earlier, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Oh…” Stiles’ shoulders drooped. So it was a mistake. He wasn’t interested.

“I’m Derek by the way. Guess we live in the same building?” He tried lamely.

“Neighbours. I’m Stiles.”

“Uh, what was that thing you did earlier?”

“Oh uh dragons absorb strong emotions as a form of energy. Your fan club really adores you. You taste like curly fries.” He blurted out.

‘Shit.’ Stiles really needed to shoot himself. His lack of filter was going to be the death of him.

Stiles’ scent went from hopeful to disappointment to utter mortification. It was driving him crazy. It was a wonder he didn’t notice his scent in the building complex before. He must have been really distracted. 

“I’m uh going to go for a run now.” Derek bolted before he could jump the kid again.

***

Stiles charged into their apartment waking up Scott, on the verge of a panic attack. Tall dark and handsome lived Right. Next. Door.

“You could ask him out.” Scott tried helpfully. 

“I can’t do that! I have to court him properly! Quick! What do werewolves like?!”

“Meat.” Scott offered obligingly. 

“There’s an idea.”

The next day Derek found a burnt rabbit on his doorstep. Or it could have been a really fat squirrel. It was hard to tell through the charred mess. Luckily there was no one else in their corner of the complex. Dead animals would have freaked the neighbours out. 

“Laura, you know anything about this?” He held out the poor charred animal. Laura eyed the thing suspiciously and then gave it a wary sniff. Her sense of smell had always been better than his. She grinned. 

“Looks like you have a suitor.”

***

“Dude.” Scott wrinkled his nose at the lingering burning scent.

“I got too excited when I spotted it. It’s really hard finding proper game even in Central Park.”

***

Derek was wearing just a thin grey Henley and dark jeans despite the weather getting colder. Werewolves ran at higher temperatures and could stand the chill. He was meeting the rest of the pack at the campus coffee shop.

Purposely arriving late because he knew Laura and his betas could ever be counted on to be on time, he was surprised to see that they were already seated. Scott and Stiles were also sitting with them. 

He caught Laura’s eye and glared, immediately suspicious. She had been teasing him since the burnt game appeared on their doorstep. No doubt this was her trying to stick her muzzle into his love life.

He sat down on the outer edge of the booth. 

“Well now that we’re all here,” Laura glared at her brother for being late. “We can order.”

They each placed their order and when their number was called Erica offered to bring back the food and Stiles jumped up hurriedly to join her. 

Derek growled at Laura, “are you trying to set me up?”

Scott quickly pulled Derek aside and hissed under his breath. “Listen man, Stiles _never_ shares anything. He’s really into you. You should give him an answer.”

Derek blinked.

Erica came back with their drinks and sandwiches while Stiles somehow got his hands on a stack of gleaming serving trays, coffee and... was that a roast pheasant? In a coffee shop?

Stiles sat down across from Derek with his newest stash of stolen goods. He handed Derek the platter of pheasant, well-done, plucked and all. “I caught this for you.”

Of course it was Stiles who had been leaving him all that game. His roasting skills had improved significantly since the first offering left on his doorstep but burnt or not, he was trying to show the wolf he could provide. That method was so archaic that Derek didn’t catch on. Wolves just asked each other out like any other regular human being nowadays.

Stiles’ scent was so hopeful and so anxious, wafting toward him. Derek panicked and reached for the first thing he saw. “I heard you like shiny things.” He held out a stainless-steel napkin holder he haphazardly grabbed from the table over.

Fuck.

***

Derek stepped gingerly into the room. He glanced around, it looked like a typical college student’s room if you ignored the mountain of blankets in the far corner and the plethora of gleaming objects strewn haphazardly around the room. Who was he kidding? It was nothing like a dorm room, it was a dragon’s lair.

“I’m pretty sure 99 percent of the things in this room are stolen.” He calmly noted.

“And returning them ain’t one.” Stiles was awfully casual about someone breaking into his lair. Via the window. Then again this was Derek. Stiles’ dragon already considered him a part of their hoard.

“Is that my favorite shirt?” He casually gestured toward the grey shirt poking out of the nest.

“What are you doing in here anyways?” Stiles pointedly dodged the question.

“Going for a walk.”

“In my bedroom?”

“I wasn’t paying attention to the road.”

It was one of the few times that someone was as openly shameless as him. Stiles was rendered speechless.

Derek fled.

***

The pack couldn’t watch their awkward courtship any longer. They were going to die from second-hand embarrassment. Idiots the both of them. It was time for an intervention. At Boyd’s suggestion, executed by Scott and Laura it came in the form of locking Derek in their apartment bathroom and luring Stiles into said apartment with a trail of strategically placed marbles.

Barricading the door from the outside, Scott and Laura gave themselves a well-deserved high-five and headed toward the campus bar to meet up with the rest of the pack. Those idiots better sort themselves out before the end of the night. 

Stiles snapped out of his marble collecting trance the same time Derek finally busted open the bathroom door. Damn it to hell Laura had actually reinforced it with steel for god knows what purpose.

Stiles took in his surroundings and stared at a sweaty breathless Derek. His tight shirt clung to his chest and sweat was soaking through. Eyes locked onto that heaving chest and delicious set of muscles and the ability to form words went out the window. Because hot sweaty sexy man. Then he held out his hands, “I have marbles.”

Derek was _sold._

***

They curled up together surrounded in a nest of blankets and assorted shiny trinkets getting acquainted with each others’ bodies. Fumbling and ripping off Stiles’ shirt with his claws because breaking the kiss was too much of an effort, Derek gave a sharp nip onto the exposed smooth pale skin, “You could have just started with the marbles, would have saved us a lot of time.” Derek laved at the mark he made.

“T-Thought you deserved wooing.” Stiles groaned out. “You could have asked me out at the pub.” 

“Thought you were drunk and I took advantage.” Derek snuffled into his ear, tongue tracing the shell and delving in with a lazy swirl. 

“C-Can’t get drunk. Dragon.”

“I didn’t know that at the time.” He gently gripped the earlobe with his teeth and tugged, grinding his hips downwards at the same time.

Keening, Stiles wrapped his legs tightly around that solid waist, threw his arms around Derek’s neck claws coming out, lightly scratching up along his back. 

“You’re my treeeasure.” Stiles slurred.

***

The weather was getting colder and snow was on the forecast. The group was getting excited. It would mean snowball fights! Coming from California Stiles and Scott had never seen snow. From what they heard from the native New Yorkers it was a sight to behold.

Stiles poked his head into Isaac and Boyd’s shared dorm. Erica was there as usual lounging on Boyd’s bed. 

“Hey, you guys want to have a snowball fight?”

“You’re on!” Erica grinned.

They decided it would be a free for all instead of splitting into teams. It was more fun that way because if Stiles and Erica teamed up together, they would be unstoppable. The rest of the pack wouldn’t survive. 

While Stiles had no coordination so to speak his magic more than made up for it. He was also a great tactician. Erica had brute strength, wicked aim and absolutely no guilt in aiming where it hurt. They were werewolves after all. It would heal.

It was going well for fun and games until Derek got hit in the face with a snowball that caused the snow around him to explode as well. Coughing and wiping his face off he glanced at the direction it came from. Stiles was staring back with a shit-eating grin.

Derek glared. “Throw another enchanted snowball at me again and you’ll regret it.” He growled.

“If I touch them normally, they’ll melt!” Stiles didn’t sound regretful. Of course the threat didn’t deter him. Another enchanted ball of snow was lobbed at his direction.

“That’s it!” Derek growled and shifted dropping onto all fours. With a howl of vengeance he charged toward Stiles and knocked him backwards into the snowbank. Giving a smug sounding yip, Derek shook off the snow on his pelt. He looked down at Stiles and flashed an evil looking toothy grin.

“Wait, you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”

Yep. Derek was going to bury that little shit alive with snow.

“Stop! Stop it!” Stiles coughed as he started to choke on the snow landing directly on his face. He panicked.

“ENOUGH!” He roared and his whole body started smoking. The air around them heated up rapidly. The surrounding snow melted instantly leaving Stiles lying in the middle of a perfect ring of burnt grass.

Finally catching his breath he realized. “Oh crap.” Derek was the closest one when he lost control. Scrambling up he looked for the giant black wolf. 

Sitting on his haunches on the dead grass, black fur and all intact was Derek starring back unblinkingly as if to say, ‘overreact much?’

Oh. Good. Derek was fireproof. 

This relationship was going to be _magical._

***

“Dad! Pops! Father mine! Look who I met!” Stiles shook his laptop in excitement that the Skype video call was blurred.

“Calm down kiddo.” The sheriff said, used to his son’s antics.

The shaking stopped and Stiles’ face came into full view taking up the whole screen. Then he backed off and dragged an uncomfortable looking Derek in front of the camera.

“This is Derek! Isn’t he gorgeous?! So shiny! 10/10 national treasure! He said he’d be a part of my hoard!”

The sheriff gave a well practiced sigh. “Kid, the proper way to say it is that you’re dating.”

“Nice to meet you sir.” Derek said awkwardly.

“Well I’m glad he found someone that puts up with his crazy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you aren't sick of my jokes yet, check out my other dragon Stiles stories!


	2. Extras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The extras that no one asked for and I didn't know I was going to write. I still can't get dragons out of my head. Dragons and teapots. Precisely in that order. I thought they fit better in this universe than as separate drabbles. Daily life hijinks. Writing them made me feel better. 
> 
> Kudos to this [Tumblr](https://unblockingwritersblock.tumblr.com/page/49) blog with prompts that have stitched together this story.

“Stiles. What is that?” Derek snapped.

“What, this thing?” 

Big brown doe eyes stared back willing Derek to believe all was well. The air of innocence would almost be believable if not for the chihuahua yapping her head off in Stiles’ arms. Stiles stood perfectly still as if he would suddenly be able to blend into the garden of lush greens and red. As if plaid would ever fit into a rose garden. Too bad dragon magic doesn’t work on werewolves. Stiles should have thought that one through when choosing to date a werewolf. 

Derek waited patiently for the answer. With Stiles’ hyperactive nature he wouldn’t be able to stand still or hold off satisfying Derek’s curiosity. Which at this time wasn’t the point because how did he think he could get away with that yappy little thing.

“In my solid defense I was trying to get the diamond collar, but she jumped into my arms and I thought hey at least it transported itself to me. How convenient.”

Derek cocked his head to the side listening intently. “The guards are coming. Let’s get the hell away from here.” He grabbed Stiles’ hand and they ran across the massive front lawn and vaulted over various arrays of hedges and shrubbery. The gardeners tending to said greenery were left gawking as they zipped past. 

“I gotta ask though Der, what were you doing here?”

Derek’s free hand shot out to rip some flowers out of a passing rose bush. Ignoring the sting of thorns piercing his skin he answered, “I saw the rose garden and thought you might like stolen flowers.”

Stiles loud cackling could be heard echoing through the garden palace as they ran for their lives. 

In retrospect kidnapping the Queen's yappy little dog might not have been the best idea but it did make for great date material. Dating a half dragon, meant date night would always end up being interesting.

***

Derek had a feeling his mate was up to no good again. He usually was during exam week when the stress got to be too much. Tracking him down by scent he found Stiles in some poor 4th year’s dorm ransacking the joint. The room was a typical college dorm filled with unwashed laundry, spilled beer and snack crumbs littering the floor.

If Stiles wasn’t aiming for the porn magazines there was literally nothing worth stealing in this room because going by the empty cup noodles littering the table, it certainly didn’t look like the guy owned any silverware.

“Stiles, there’s nothing worth stealing in a poor student’s dorm room.”

Stiles neck deep in rummaging under the dorm bed surfaced with a face of someone who succeeded.

“Aha!” He proudly held up a sparkly plastic tiara with glued on rhinestones. “That’s where you’re wrong! Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!”

Derek groaned. His mate’s stress had hit an all new low, nobody wants _that_. It was probably the cue for them to move farther away from campus, closer to some banks or museums if not for Stiles’ sake then for the sake of the student body.

***

It was the one year mark into their relationship and they both agreed to move in together. Scott was forever complaining about the noise when Derek stayed over anyways. Scott wanted his peace and quiet again. He could room with Isaac since Boyd and Erica agreed to find a place together. Laura could have a flat to herself that could be their new den house.

Stiles’ odd trinkets and baubles had spewed over to his apartment citing the need for more space. The place looked chaotic, but it was perfect for a dragon’s den. Derek didn’t mind Stiles unsubtly moving his things into the loft. It meant their scents mixed and if Stiles was happy, he was happy. 

The realtor was coming over in the afternoon to look at the place.

The doorbell rang. Derek opened the door and took a step back to welcome the realtor in. 

To the untrained eye the loft looked like someone’s hoarding gone wrong. 

He walked into the loft and casually kicked aside a stray marble before moving on. 

_Strike one._

Stiles flinched but kept his temper in check by Derek’s firm grip on his shoulder.

The realtor walked into the kitchen continuing to survey the building. “What’s with all these toys?” The realtor commented lightly eyeing the mess in obvious distaste. “You’ll do better to clean up the mess before people start coming over for the viewing.”

_Strike two._

If the realtor were paying attention to Stiles instead of openly judging the place, he would be able to see that Stiles was subtly starting to smoke. And not cigarettes either. Dragon smoke was emitting from his body and the surrounding temperature started to rise slightly. 

He reached the bedroom and with a look of disdain at the mess of trinkets surrounding their nest and piled high in the corners. “You should consider a yard sale to get rid of all this junk.”

_Strike three._

Stiles lost it and roared “Derek get the BBQ sauce I’m going to roast this fucker!”

They should have gone through the effort to find a supernatural realtor.

***

Celebrating passing their finals Stiles and Scott decided to go back to Beacon Hills to visit. They hadn’t been home in over a year. It suddenly turned into a pack road trip because Erica insisted they came along and a reluctant Isaac was dragged into it. Boyd silently agreed. Laura stayed behind to fix up their new pack house.

The gang tried to rent a van but as luck with have it the rest of New York had the same idea about summer road trips. All the minivans were rented out. The best they could get was a five-seater Corolla and even that was really pushing it for five ripped werewolves crammed into a Japanese sedan. Not to mention the extra dragon they had.

“So if you stay in dragon shift, we _should_ be able to fit.” Scott said happily as if that would solve all their problems.

Stiles was about to claw his eyes out because didn’t that line sound awfully familiar. Just because Stiles was available in travel size did _not_ mean he was willing!

“You can sit on my lap for the ride.” Derek offered.

Stiles instantly perked up. If anything would make the long drive across the states any better, it was being smooshed against Derek’s glorious abs.

And thus the teapot dragon made another appearance happily crawling into Derek’s shirt and rubbing himself over those fine muscles.

They didn’t even reach the entrance to the interstate and, “Stiles, stop licking my stomach.”

It was going to be a long drive.

They arrived in one piece. Almost. The Sheriff was waiting for them on the porch when they pulled up onto the driveway. A harassed looking Derek quickly got out, fished Stiles out of his shirt and tossed him in the direction of the Sheriff. 

An outraged squawk sounded from the little dragon. “I’m delicate!”

“We are booking a plane for the return trip.”

The sheriff caught and cradled Stiles his arms, looking down skeptically at his son. The ‘what did you do now' did not need to be said out loud.

On the last leg of the trip Stiles got so bored he decided it would be a good idea to unzip Derek and crawl into the front of his jeans. And yes, Derek did go commando. Derek did have a bit of a dragon kink, and a tiny dragon Stiles kink, but this wasn’t the time or place to explore it with the pack crammed into the car. 

Good thing he was sitting shotgun. Scott, who was at the wheel kept throwing amused glances over like he knew what was going on and glad he wasn’t the one to put up with Stiles’ shit. 

Stiles briefly poked his head out from Derek’s fly and looked up flashing tiny sharp teeth and grinned evilly. Then he ducked back in and resumed his ministrations. Nothing cute about him at all despite his size. Luckily, Alphas could mask their chemo-signals. It was a frustratingly _hard_ trip with Stiles squirming between his legs and teasing him.

If Derek didn’t want a perpetual hard on for the entire way back, Stiles gets a seat to himself. Message received. 

Just wait until they are alone in the house, there will be pay back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. That's all I have. I don't know how to write steamy smut.


End file.
